So I had a pet chicken... his name was Henry. I loved him as much as other people would love their dogs or cats or horses. (To read the whole story, go to protagonize.com/story/chicken-scratch)
Henry was loyal, if anything. He met me by the bus stop every afternoon, waited for the bus with me in the morning, and on weekends, he would stand next to the front door and crow until I came outside. He would love to be held, and would become jealous if I held any other chicken.
I also had another rooster, Alfraydo. He was cruel, and I gave him mercy. He and Henry fought day in, day out. One night, Alfraydo attacked Henry in the middle of the night. The next morning, I cage Alfraydo up and had to leave for school so I couldn't help Henry all day.
That night, I gave my stepdad the OK to kill Alfraydo. We took Henry inside and nursed him for a few hours. He looked much better, and it seemed he would live, so I let myself go to bed because I had an interview the next morning.
Well, Henry didn't get much further than the next morning.
If I could do anything over, I would stay up all that night. I would have made a bed down in the basement and stayed with Henry. I would give him water and tend to his wounds. I would have stayed up all night, whether I had that interview or not.
I would have gone to that interview, exhausted, but knowing my best friend had a better chance to live.
The reason I wouldn't just kill Alfraydo off earlier is because if I had, I would feel guilty for not giving him a chance.
Yeah, maybe I am crazy for loving a chicken. But what do you think people thought when that first person fell in love with a puppy?